In the Darkest of Night
by K Hanna Korossy
Summary: First Blood tag: Together, in the dark, talking-three things they'd been denied in prison-the brothers finally let their guards down.


**In the Darkest of Night**  
**K Hanna Korossy**

They ran into each other in the hallway. They were closer to Dean's room than Sam's, but Dean figured that was probably because he'd paused a moment to grab his sleeping bag. Sam only had his pillow and blanket.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, and Dean only shrugged, refusing to feel embarrassed. They'd both spent the last two months locked in rooms alone. The fact they were in their own rooms now, with comfortable mattresses and doors they could go through at any time, hadn't actually made that much of a difference. By Dean's count, they'd lasted about two minutes before they'd each headed for the other.

"Your room's bigger," Dean pointed out.

"My back likes the floor more than yours does," Sam parried.

And his memory foam had probably forgotten all about him by now. Dean wavered.

"And…I think there's a mouse living in my room," Sam went in for the kill.

Dean shuddered theatrically and turned back, hearing his brother follow him. He was pretty sure Sam was lying, but if he wanted Dean's floor that bad, Dean wouldn't argue.

Dean tossed his bedding back on his bed and the sleeping bag on the floor. He waited until Sam got it laid out and tucked himself in before turning the light off. He left the door cracked open. Their cells had always been lit; darkness was a balm now. But he wanted to see Sam, their familiar surroundings, the open door, and he would've bet Sam felt the same way.

A minute went by. Neither of them were going to sleep despite their exhaustion. Dean gave up waiting for his brother to break the silence.

"Our shower is _awesome." _

Sam snorted softly in the semi-darkness. "Anything's awesome after that trickle they called a shower." It had been a simple shower head, one lever, and a drain in the floor, not even a curtain, but the water had always been lukewarm and weak.

"True," Dean conceded. He studied the dim ceiling. "And how great was that Denny's, huh?" It'd been their one stop on the way home, and the one thing they'd discussed in the car. Not Sam and Dean being locked up for eight weeks, not Mary almost killing herself, not Cas executing a Reaper despite "cosmic consequences."

Sam huffed another laugh. "Typical Denny's, so not that great, but it still tasted five-star after the food…back there."

They'd have to find a name for it. Sing-Sing? Lock-up? Hell Hotel? "Even the salad was good," was what Dean said, though.

"Salad's always good."

"Whatever." Dean tapered off; he didn't really need to list the simple pleasures. Sam got it. Sam was always the only one who got it.

Another minute. He heard Sam shift on the floor.

"Dean?"

"Yeah."

A pause. "Did you mean what you said to Mom? About solitary being worse than Hell?"

"Hell, no." Dean only realized the pun once it was out of his mouth.

But there was a bigger question here, and he closed his eyes and breathed slowly in and out as he thought about how to respond. Because after eight weeks of no brother, and after everything they'd both been through, he wasn't about to push Sam away. Not about this.

Dean cleared his throat. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it was…bad. Not meat-hooks-and-burning-alive bad, but I was counting days just to keep from goin' crazy. Tried to call for Crowley, pray to Cas, anything I could think of." He licked dry lips, wanting a beer so badly that he almost got up.

He wasn't finished, though.

"But…I realized something, couple weeks in."

He heard the rustle of blankets, and when Sam spoke again, he sounded closer. "Yeah?"

Dean gave him a sideways glance and saw his vague outline propped up on one elbow, watching him.

"The offer Death made me, when I had the Mark. Eternal exile someplace in space or whatever, never dying, never seeing another person again? I almost took it."

He couldn't even hear Sam breathing now.

"And." Dean swallowed because, crap, he was near to breaking. "That would've been with you dead. Living forever, alone, with the memory of killing you." Dean was grateful now for the dark, because it let him swipe the tears away without Sam seeing. "So. Yeah. Colorado? Not so bad." He closed his eyes, let that rest a moment. "And…thanks."

There was a long silence. He heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sniff from down near the floor. Another soft rustle of movement as Sam lay back flat, and they both pondered the ceiling.

Sam finally spoke, confessionally soft. "I would've let you go with Billie."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. Jeez, just when he thought this couldn't get any harder. He managed a weak laugh. "Liar."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, yeah, maybe." He grew serious again. "But I would've tried. I know when I went first…"

…Dean had crashed and burned, epically. Forget "greater love hath no man than this": for them, the ultimate sacrifice was letting the other go first. Being the one left behind to suffer alone.

"If I knew you were okay…" Dean had learned his lesson after deals and Apocalypses and seeing it go bad over and over, but leaving Sam to Hell, or to surrender to despair, that wasn't in him. It never would be.

"Yeah…" Sam murmured. "Guess we'll never know how it would've gone."

"Guess not."

Another bunch of quiet heartbeats.

"You wanna take a ride tomorrow?" Dean asked. "Just take Baby and…drive?"

"Sounds good," Sam answered without hesitation.

"Okay. And I want pie. Three kinds."

He could hear Sam's smile now. "Okay."

"And some of those fancy apples you like."

"They're not—yeah, whatever, okay."

Dean's mouth ticked up, and he turned over to burrow his arms under the pillow. "'Night, Sammy."

He heard Sam do the same. His "'Night, Dean" was muffled and sleepy.

Good. Aired and done. Maybe they'd actually get some sleep tonight. And not talk about this again. Dean had needed to say those things to Sam and he was glad he'd had the chance. But he would've answered any question Sam put to him tonight, and there was one he was grateful hadn't come up. One confession he hadn't wanted to make.

Because Sam's deal with Billie hadn't specified which Winchester would go with her. But Dean's had.

**The End**

A/n: I wrote this a few months ago, before recent events in S14. Seems ironic now...


End file.
